


Once Upon A Thedas

by Lannister418



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Bromance, Crossover, F/M, High Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:49:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23594122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lannister418/pseuds/Lannister418
Summary: Aleska Lavellan, Herald of Andraste, and her lover, Lord Anselm Trevelyan, find themselves lost in a strange world while in pursuit of a group of Venatori.  Separated, and in an unfamiliar environment, finding each other is their first priority; closely followed by surviving whatever this place has in store for them.Emma Swan’s plans for a relaxed evening are disrupted by the news that a stranger has been brought to the Storybrooke hospital.  A stranger who bears a disturbing resemblance to one Killian Jones.
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan, Female Lavellan/Male Trevelyan
Kudos: 4





	Once Upon A Thedas

**Author's Note:**

> In terms of the OUAT timeline, this story is set at an unspecified point after the commencement of Emma and Hook's relationship. In the Dragon Age Inquisition timeline it occurs after the events at the Winter Palace and Adamant Fortress.
> 
> The characters of Aleska Lavellan and Anselm Trevelyan appear in the collaborative work The Fox and the Dragon, co-written with x_bellaczarina_x. I would like to thank her for permission to use her original female character, Aleska Lavellan, in this work.

It would be night soon. Aleska’s heightened senses might allow her to navigate in the dark as well as in daytime, but Anselm didn’t have that luxury. He needed to find somewhere it would be safe to light a fire, and try to snatch as much sleep as he could; although there was no way of telling what manner of beasts roamed these unfamiliar woods. He stared at the half-fingerbreadth of brandy in the bottom of his flask and gave a mournful sigh.

“Looks like I’ll have to forgo breakfast.” He muttered and swallowed the last of it, savouring the warmth spreading down his chest and into his stomach. He pushed the cork back into the flask and returned it to his knapsack.

The rain had diminished to a persistent drizzle and he got to his feet, taking out his pocket-knife and cutting a blaze into the bark at eye level. Wiping his knife clean, he ran his thumb along the cut and brought it to his nose, savouring the scent of fresh pine resin. There were more conifers here than there should be, and the air was cooler. This could be the southern end of the Emerald Graves, or the fringes of the Brecilian Forest. Whatever the Venatori had done and wherever this was, he wasn’t in the Jader Hills anymore. 

He looked at the blaze for a moment before shouldering his knapsack and continuing onwards, stopping to make a fresh one every half-score of yards. If Aleska was anywhere in these woods, she’d find the trail he was leaving for her. The slope got steeper, and Anselm could see some sort of road or track below. He cut another blaze then headed down, carefully, to investigate. The road was wide enough for two wagons to pass easily, and surfaced with a gritty, tarry, substance. It was well maintained, a major thoroughfare of sorts. Anselm bit his bottom lip as he considered the options. Apart from the old Imperial Highway, roads in southern Fereldan were basic at best; that meant he was most likely somewhere in the Emerald Graves, which presented its own set of problems. If he followed the road, he could run into an Inquisition patrol, but he was just as likely to encounter a stray band of Freemen and there was no way that could end well.

The safest choice meant sticking to the woods but keeping the road in view, which begged the question… left or right? He reached into his belt pouch and took out a coin. As he tossed it, a noise, deep and unfamiliar, detached itself from the sound of the wind and the movement of the trees. He turned, drawing his sword, to see a beast with brilliant, blinding, eyes bearing down on him in the half light.

Anselm flung himself towards the verge, feeling an intense, grinding, crunch as the beast caught him in the side, followed by an explosion of pain as his shoulder hammered into the solid surface of the road. His sword was gone from his hand, but his right arm lay useless so it would have done him no good anyway. Through the bolts of agony and confusion shaking his mind he could hear the beast slowing; no doubt to turn and finish what it had started. He couldn’t let it catch him here in the open, his only chance was to reach the cover of the trees. He pushed himself up onto one knee with his left hand but, the moment he tried to stand, his ankle gave way and he lurched forward; his head cracking against the ground. As he slipped out of consciousness there was a glimpse of something black and white running towards him in the twilight.

###

“Dr Hopper… Archie, slow down and don’t shout; you’re not making any sense.” Emma held the phone away from her ear as the doctor’s frantic rush of words continued.

“I was driving back from the lake with Pongo and he was just there on the road in front of me. I couldn’t stop in time. He’s in the hospital, you’ve got to get down here right away.”

_Shit…_ Emma ran her hand through her hair, tugging out the scrunchie that held it back. Even in Storybrooke, a road traffic accident meant a pile of paperwork and this was the first night she and Killian had to themselves for a month.

“Who’s in the hospital?” She said, keeping her voice calm in the hope that some of it would infect the near-hysterical man on the other end of the line.

“Hook.” Dr Hopper blurted out. “But it’s not…”

“Hook?” Emma frowned in confusion, glancing towards the bathroom. “Killian’s in the hospital?”

“No, I’m bloody not!” Killian shouted through the door. “And tell whoever that is to go away. It’s Grape Night.”

“ _Date_ Night.” Emma corrected him with a sigh. “Look… Dr Hopper…”

“I don’t care what bloody fruit it is.” Killian called back. “Henry’s with your mum and dad, I’ve just had a shower and you still have to show me what this ‘Netflix’ thing is!”

“Emma, it’s Hook but it’s not. There’s something different about him.”

“Different; what do you mean?” She asked, walking over to the bathroom door, and knocking on it to hurry Killian up. She could hear Dr Hopper’s hesitation on the other end.

“Well… he has both hands, for a start; and a tattoo of some sort on his chin. Almost Maori looking.”

“Great” Emma muttered, lowering the phone for a moment. Every time she thought life had almost become what passed for normal, another curveball got thrown her way. She raised the phone back to her ear. “I’ll be there as soon as possible. Just try to stay calm and tell Dr Whale to call me if there’s any problems.”

She put the phone down on the table as the bathroom door opened and Killian came out, aggressively towelling his hair with a look of resigned irritation.

“I don’t care if it is me down there; if he’s messed up… date… night, he’ll bloody well regret it.”

“Killian, I’m sorry…” She gave an apologetic shrug as he threw the towel back into the bathroom and pulled his shirt off the back of a chair.

“I know, Love. Duty calls. I suppose that means we have to call your mum and dad as well.”

Emma took her jacket down from the coatrack and slipped it on.

“Next time I promise I’ll remember to switch my phone off.”

Killian gave a grunt of laughter as he finished buttoning his shirt and picked up his coat.

“Don’t bother; they’d only just come knocking at the door instead.”

###

David and Mary Margaret had arrived at the hospital before them and were in the waiting room with a shaken-looking Dr Hopper when they arrived.

“Granny’s looking after Henry.” David told Emma as he got to his feet. “Do you have any idea what’s happening? Dr Hopper’s right, the man looks almost exactly like Hook.”

“Maybe someone decided the world needed more handsome in it?” Killian suggested with a wry chuckle, earning an exasperated glance from Emma.

“We don’t know any more that you do.” She said, turning to Dr Hopper. “Archie, can you tell us what happened?”

It only took Dr Hopper a few minutes to tell the story; there wasn’t much to tell. He’d been driving back to town with Pongo when he rounded a bend to see a man standing in the road. He’d braked hard but the car had skidded on the wet surface and clipped the man in his side as he dived for cover.

“I wasn’t going fast, Pongo gets carsick.” He assured Emma, reaching down to pat the dalmatian sitting at his feet. “The man was still conscious when I got out of the car. I think he was trying to get back into the woods, but he fell and hit his head.”

“Was there anything else you noticed?” Emma asked. “Anything out of the ordinary?”

Dr Hopper thought for a moment then shook his head.

“From the way he was dressed I guessed he wasn’t from town, then I saw his face and thought it was Hook. I don’t quite remember what I did after that, but I must have called the hospital.”

Emma placed a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s alright Archie, I’ll get Mary Margaret to drive you home and I’ll call you if I have any more questions.” She turned to Killian. “Let’s go and take a look.”

###

The man was in a private cubicle at the far end of a little-used ward. Emma was grateful they were keeping him out of sight for now; this raised questions she had no answers to yet, and she wanted time to get as much information as possible.

“Bloody hell…” Killian murmured under his breath as the two of them looked down at the unconscious man on the hospital bed.

Beneath the closely trimmed black beard she could see the tattoo Dr Hopper had mentioned; four dark blue lines curving from the man’s bottom lip to just under his chin. Apart from that, and the fact he had both of his hands, he could have been Killian. His hair was a bit longer, and he seemed slightly broader in the shoulders, but those were cosmetic differences. 

Looking at two versions of the same man made her shudder. This wasn’t like the time she’d dealt with a past version of Hook in the Enchanted Forest; she’d known what to expect there. This man represented an unknown quantity and experience had taught her that meant bad news.

“Are you sure you don’t have an evil twin you haven’t told us about?” David asked as he joined them. Killian grinned.

“Mate, balance of probability is that _I’m_ the evil twin; but no, not that I know of.” He looked back at the man on the bed. “He’s not some kind of doppelganger, is he? That’s all we need.”

Emma shook her head as she continued her examination. There was another tattoo on the man’s left bicep, partly hidden by the hospital gown; a red snake twining around a goblet.

“I think if this was a doppelganger, or some sort of illusion, it… he… would be a more exact replica.”

Dr Whale walked briskly into the cubicle with an annoyed expression.

“Whoever… or whatever… he is, he’s not going anywhere soon; and he’s still my patient so I’d be pleased if you wouldn’t all crowd in here without informing me first, especially him…” He gestured towards Killian with his clipboard. “Our John Doe is severely disoriented and potentially violent. I don’t want him coming around and seeing his own face staring down at him.”

“Is he badly injured?” Emma asked. Whale glanced down at his notes

“Four broken ribs, dislocated shoulder and ankle; apart from that, it’s mainly cuts, scrapes and bruises. He’s lucky Dr Hopper is a careful driver.” He tucked the clipboard under his arm. “He was conscious when he was brought in, but in extreme pain, and became aggressive when we tried to take a blood sample. We had to give him a strong sedative. He kept shouting for someone called…” He looked at his clipboard again “Alexis, or Alexa; something like that.”

He looked questioningly at Emma and Killian as though hoping for elucidation. Killian just shrugged.

“Doesn’t mean anything to me, mate.”

Whale nodded thoughtfully, adding something to his notes before looking back up at them.

“And now I would be obliged if you would let me deal with my patient in peace. If you do feel the need to search for more information, his belongings are in the room next door.”

The tone of dismissal in Dr Whale’s voice was emphatic and unmistakeable. Emma glanced at David and Killian and shrugged.

“Perhaps there’s be something there to tell us who he is and where he’s from. Then we ought to go up and check the woods where Dr Hopper found him; there could be some more clues there.”

###

Aleska inhaled deeply, held her breath for three heartbeats, then exhaled slowly with a long sigh. She repeated this twice, concentrating on her breath to quieten the fear threatening to choke her.

_The stars are different… how is that possible?!_

By day and night, the sky was clock, compass, and calendar to the Dalish. From her earliest childhood she’d been taught to know where and when she was simply by glancing up. It wasn’t something an elf had to think about; you simply knew it was always there. Without that familiar presence Aleska felt completely alone for the first time in years, the first time since she’d crept out from under the bushes to see _Mae’s_ body; lifeless and bloody…

_Stop it! Stop. Now._

She slammed her fist hard against her knee, ignoring the stinging in her eyes and taking another calming breath. Panic would kill her just as easily as a Venatori blade. If Anselm was here, he’d make some inappropriate quip that would have her laughing and furious at the same time, distracting her from their situation, but she hadn’t seen him since the flash of lightning and the swirling cloud of mist that followed. 

The thought of him being alone somewhere; injured or in the hands of the Venatori, threatened to choke her again and she stood, swearing softly under her breath. If she couldn’t rely on the stars, she would need to find another way to orient herself. 

She pulled off her left glove and examined the mark in the palm of her hand. The Anchor felt different, almost as if it was dormant. She’d forgotten what it was like not to feel that constant tingling, and the familiar greenish glow had faded to a few sparks flickering along the curving lines branded into her skin. Aleska didn’t need Solas to tell her that the connection to the Fade was weak here. She could feel it in the marrow of her bones. Aleska shook her head and put her glove back on. She could ponder what that meant once she’d found Anselm.

She took another deep breath and began to slowly turn on her axis, focussing on the details of this unfamiliar environment; how the trees grew, where the patches of moss were thickest, the movements of the wind. She would have to rely on her skills, and the nature of this place, to show her the way. A movement in the middle distance caught her eye and she dropped to her haunches, focusing on that direction. She saw it again, something white flickering against the darkness, and began creeping towards it with her bow in her hand. As she drew close, she saw a white silk scarf tied around a low branch. Keeping under cover, her heart beating fast and shallow, Aleska scanned the environment for any sign of traps or ambush before approaching to examine it properly.

It was Anselm’s scarf, tied in a floppy bow around a branch that had recently been cut short. The sap was still sticky to the touch, so it had been sometime in the last few hours. Aleska felt her hands shaking as some of the accumulated tension flowed out of her. Above the knotted scarf, a diagonal notch was cut into the bark. It was the Dalish way of blazing a trail, angled in the direction of travel. She’d shown him how to do that on one of their first ventures into the Hinterlands. There would be another one within line of sight and, after a moment of scanning the trees, she spotted it about twenty paces ahead. She felt herself smiling; Anselm was alive, free, and had given her a way to find him.

###

“Nice piece of cutlery.” Killian gave the rapier an experimental swing. “Good balance too, I’ll wager this cost a pretty penny wherever it came from.”

Emma threw him a cautionary glance as she continued sorting through the man’s possessions.

“Put it back. It could have a curse on it for all we know.”

“Not everything has to be cursed.” He chuckled, slipping the sword back into its sheath.

“I’m not willing to take that risk.” She said, stepping back and looking at the collection with her hands on her hips. Nothing there belonged to this world; she glanced across to David, who stood under the light examining some of the coins from the man’s purse. “Anything?”

“I don’t recognise any of them; they’re certainly not from one of the Enchanted Forest kingdoms.” He turned the large gold one over. “But this is the same design as the tattoo on his arm.”

David handed Emma the coin and she looked at it closely. The centre of the obverse was stamped with the image of a serpent twined around a goblet, although she couldn’t decipher the surrounding inscription.

“It looks almost like Latin, but I’m willing to bet it isn’t.” She gave the coin back to David. “Some sort of family crest perhaps; do you think he might be royalty?”

David shrugged, putting the coins back into the purse and closing it.

“Until he wakes up, and assuming we can understand what he says, there’s no way of telling. I doubt he’s a pauper though.” He picked up the man’s doublet. It finely made of supple, dark green, leather; with fastenings of silver inset with some dark-amber stone. He weighed it in his hand for a moment then frowned. “I think there’s something in the pocket.”

He reached inside and pulled out a slim vellum-bound notebook, tied closed with a cord.

“Careful, mate.” Killian said with a wink. “Might be cursed.”

Emma gave an exasperated sigh and took the notebook from David, although she hesitated for a second before untying the cord and opening it. The first page bore a single word, written in a fluid italic hand. _Aleska_

“Whale said he was calling out for ‘Alexis’ or ‘Alexa’,” She said, staring down at the word. “Do you think he meant this?”

David looked over her shoulder and nodded his agreement.

“What’s in the rest of it?”

She flicked through the pages. The book was half filled with what looked like poems, and drafts of poems, all in the same cultured handwriting and in a language she couldn’t understand.

“Translation spell?” Killian suggested, peering over her other shoulder.

Emma shook her head. There was something too personal, even intimate, about this; like holding someone’s heart in her hands. A pencil sketch was pasted into the inside rear cover; a dark-haired woman with firm, delicate features, giving the artist a defiant look although there a hint of a smile about her mouth. The drawing was in three-quarters profile and the woman’s hair was tied up and back, revealing a gracefully up-swept ear.

“An elf?” Emma raised her eyebrows. “Are there elves in the Enchanted Forest?”

“I’ve heard legends, but no-one I know has ever seen one.” David said. He turned to Killian. “You’ve travelled a lot further than any of us.”

Killian took a long look at the portrait and shrugged.

“Just legends, like yourself. I’d remember someone who looked like her.” He caught Emma’s sharp glance and gave her an innocent smile. “What? Only telling the truth, love.”

“What do you want, a gold star?” Emma said with a dry laugh, closing the book and tucking it carefully back inside the doublet. “We should head up to where Dr Hopper found him and see if we can trace his steps back to where he arrived.”

“I’ll stay here and keep an eye on things.” David said, picking up his jacket. “I’ll give you a call if anything happens and, both of you, take care up there. We don’t know if anyone… or anything… else came with him.”

###

Aleska followed the trail for over a mile before the ground began to slope steeply downwards. Through the trees she glimpsed what looked like a road, and a splash of colour; garish and unnatural against the darkness of the forest. She eased her way down the slope, keeping low and nocking an arrow in her bow, to get a better view. It was a bright yellow wagon or carriage of some type, but there was no sign of any horses. A lean, dark-haired, man stood beside it with his back to her. Aleska’s chest tightened. His face might not be visible, but his build and stance were familiar. She shifted to get a better look, and something cracked beneath her foot. The man turned his head at the sound, allowing her a clear view of his profile, and she almost laughed with relief.

“Anselm!” She called out, forgetting all her caution for a moment, and ran down the rest of the slope towards the road. The man had turned to face her fully and she stopped, stepping back and drawing her bow; aiming the arrow directly at his chest. He had Anselm’s face, but a sharp metal hook in place of his left hand.

“Whoa… careful, love.” He took a step back as well, holding his arms away from his sides and keeping a wary eye on the arrow. His voice was coarser than Anselm’s, with an accent that sounded Fereldan. “I’m not the guy you’re looking for, but…”

“Where is he?” Aleska snapped, keeping the arrow trained on him. This was a clever illusion, but not good enough. “What have you done with him, demon?”

He let out a short, scoffing, laugh.

“I’m no demon, I’m as hu… I’m flesh and blood, like you are, and I know where your friend is.”

A movement at the other side of the road caught Aleska’s eye. A blonde human woman in a red leather tunic emerging from the woods.

“Stay where you are.” Aleska warned. “And tell me what you’ve done with Anselm.”

“We don’t mean you any harm.” The woman said in appeasing tones, keeping her hands in full view. “Your friend was… found… on the road here, we were looking for…”

“Lie to me again and he dies” Aleska said sharply. The bow creaked faintly under the strain and she saw a bead of sweat running down the man’s neck.

“He was hit by a car; it was an accident, I swear. He has a few broken bones and a concussion but he’s going to be fine; we’re taking care of him, I promise.” 

The woman’s words were almost tripping over each other in her haste to get them out but Aleska sensed truth beneath them and she carefully lowered the bow. The man’s shoulders slumped, and he sighed in relief.

“You must have a lot of questions.” The woman continued. “So do we.”

Aleska tucked the arrow back into her quiver and slung her bow over her shoulder.

“They can wait until I’ve seen Anselm. Once I know he’s safe and well, then we can talk.”

The man took a step towards the yellow wagon, opening a door in its side.

“We’d better get going then.” He paused and gave her a friendly smile. “We’re forgetting our manners. I’m Killian Jones, also known as Hook—you can probably guess why, and this is Emma Swan; the lady I was supposed to be having a romantic evening with before everything went arse up… again!”

“Aleska Lavellan, I would apologize for disturbing your evening, but that will come once I can confirm he is fine.” Aleska said sharply. “And how is this thing supposed to move?”

Killian shrugged.

“It’s some sort of horseless carriage; don’t ask me how it works, I got hit by one myself first time I arrived here.” He held the door open for her. “Hope you don’t mind the back seat.”

Aleska took a step forward then paused.

“Wait; you’re not from this place either?”

“No-one in Storybrooke is originally from this world.” Emma said, opening a door on the other side of the carriage. “So, no matter how strange your tale is, we’ve probably encountered weirder.”

“Somehow I doubt that.” Aleska murmured, half to herself, as she climbed into the back seat; it was scattered with what appeared to be empty food and drink containers, and brightly coloured pieces of paper. The mess was oddly comforting, reminding her of the chaos Jonas left behind after a meal, or the way Sophia’s things were gradually taking over Cullen’s quarters. If these people were agents of Corypheus she would have expected them to be less disorganised. She almost jumped out of the seat as music filled the air, only to be as swiftly cut off as Emma jabbed a button in front of her.

“Hook!” Emma snapped, glaring at Killian who swivelled in his seat to give Aleska an apologetic grimace.

“Sorry… I like a bit of music in the car.”

Aleska settled back, her heart pounding from the surprise.

“Let him play his… music box… if he wants; it doesn’t bother me.”

“Thanks, love.” He grinned and turned back around, hitting the button again. The car filled with the sound of a guitar, and a husky male voice singing lyrics she couldn’t quite catch. For now, it was just one more bizarre thing she was too tired and stressed to think about too much.

The carriage growled and stuttered into life. The sound had a metallic quality which made Aleska think of the dwarven contraptions Dagna sometimes tinkered with in the Undercroft. Was it some type of mechanism akin to the ones that supposedly powered the Qunari dreadnaughts? More questions but, for now, she was only concerned about the answer to one.

The woods gave way to rolling farmland dotted with homesteads and led them into a small town. There were people in strange clothes, and more of these horseless vehicles, but there was also an unusual feeling of normality. Aleska could see no warriors or weapons and the town had no apparent fortifications. Streets and buildings were illuminated by coloured lamps which reminded her of the enchanted lantern in the Summer Bazaar. Eventually they pulled up to a large, low, building with a brightly lit entrance.

As they entered, Aleska saw two fair-haired men talking. Her heart almost stopped at the sight of the man in the black leather doublet and ankle-length blue breeches. For a panicked moment she thought it was Cullen but, as he turned, she felt relieved when realised he just had a similar build and hair colour. 

The other man, who wore a knee-length white robe over his clothes, approached them with a look of surprise on his face and Aleska could tell he was staring at her ears.

“This is Aleska, she’s the companion of your patient.” Emma told the man and turned to Aleska. “Dr Whale is the chief of medicine here; he’ll take you to…”

“Anselm… His name is Anselm…” Aleska blurted out, trying to keep her breathing steady. “And I want to see him now.”

###

Aleska broke into a run as she caught sight of the figure lying on the bed in a small cubicle at the end of the ward. A dark-haired woman got up from a chair as she drew close.

“You must be Aleska.” She said, in a soft pleasant voice. “He’s been waking at odd moments and calling your name, but I don’t think he’s really conscious of where he is or what’s happened to him. I’ll leave the two of you alone.”

Aleska nodded a vague thanks, the constriction in her throat choking back whatever words she might otherwise have found. She was barely aware of the woman leaving as she looked down at Anselm on the bed, pale and still. Only the barely perceptible flicker of his eyes beneath the closed lids, and the slow rise and fall of his chest, reassured her he was alive.

“ _Ma Vhe’nan_ …” She ran her fingers softly through his hair and brushed her lips against his forehead. She could see bandages around his shoulder and chest beneath the thin cotton gown they’d dressed him in, and the left side of his face was scraped and bruised. His fingers tightened gently against hers and his eyes half-opened; they were foggy and unfocussed from whatever drugs or potions they’d given him, and she couldn’t be sure he was really awake.

“Love…” He whispered hoarsely as she strained to make out the words. “Lost… couldn’t find…”

“Shhh… it’s alright, I found you.” She kissed his forehead again, stroking his cheek. “I’ll always find you, even if I have to search the entire world.”

Aleska slid her fingers down to his neck, checking for the pulse. It was slow, but strong and regular. He shifted, murmured something inaudible, and drifted back into sleep. She laid her hand on his chest, feeling the reassuring beat of his heart and the movement of his breathing. She closed her eyes for a few seconds and breathed slowly, matching her rhythm to his, before wiping away her tears and standing up. She adjusted her tunic, took a deep breath, and walked out of the cubicle to face the others.

Dr Whale was waiting for her outside the cubicle. Aleska closed the door behind her and folded her arms.

“How long is he going to be here?”

Dr Whale scratched the side of his nose and glanced down at his notes.

“A lot depends on when he wakes up. His head took quite a bang, but there’s no sign of any serious injury, and he is under quite heavy sedation just now. He won’t need surgery for his ankle or shoulder, but he will require a lot of rest and I’d like to keep him in for a few days to make sure there aren’t any complications. He will need a splint for his ankle, and it will be several weeks before he’s fully physically active.”

Aleska considered this news for a moment, lightly biting her bottom lip as she considered the ramifications of Anselm being out of action for an extended period of time. She reached into her pack and took out a bottle of the lyrium-augmented Elfroot potion that Dorian and Sophia had worked on.

“Give him half a wineglass of this each morning, and another in the evening.” She said handing the bottle to Dr Whale. “No more, or his body will try and heal itself too fast. It’s also highly addictive.”

The doctor held the bottle up and examined it. Even in the well-lit room it appeared to give off a faint blue luminescence.

“Interesting…” He said. “I’ll make sure he gets the proper dosage.”

Aleska let out a quiet sigh and ran her hand over her face; the exhaustion she’d been holding at bay was creeping past her defences.

“Thank you. I suppose I’d better talk to the others now.”

Dr Whale set the bottle down on a nearby table.

“Actually, I’ve asked them to go home and come back in the morning.” He said, giving her a comforting smile. “I know everyone has a lot of questions, but you need to get some rest before you collapse. I’ll have a bed made up for you in the same cubicle as your friend, and there’ll be a nursing sister on duty in case either of you need anything.”

Aleska opened her mouth to object but then closed it again. She honestly had no idea how she was going to begin explaining things to these people, and the chance to rest and clear her head was too appealing. She let her shoulders slouch a little as the tiredness crept up her spine.

“Dr Whale, you have no idea how much I want to sleep right now.”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve dealt with people in your situation, it’s not an uncommon reaction.” He said, with a quiet chuckle. “Storybrooke is a bit of an unusual town, but mostly friendly; you and your companion are safe for now.”

“Safe isn’t a concept either of us are used to.” Aleska picked up her backpack and followed Dr Whale back to the cubicle. “And if the people we were hunting also came here, we might not be as safe as you think.”

Dr Whale looked at her with a hint of a smirk.

“If that’s the case, they might find they’re facing more than they bargained for.”

###

Magister Volentus held the crystal up to the light; his eyes narrowing as he peered into its depths, searching for any sign. After a few minutes his lips curled in a satisfied smile.

“Barely a spark.” He said, placing the crystal back in the casket and closing the lid. “This world is almost devoid of any connection to the Fade, as we were assured.”

One of his acolytes stepped forward, nervously wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue.

“Master…” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Master, how did the Elder One know of this place?”

Magister Volentus gave a sharp snort of laughter.

“I did not presume to question, I simply obeyed. Something you would be wise to remember.”

The young man hesitated, briefly glancing back at his comrades.

“I… I do not seek to question, Master, only to understand. The conditions of this ritual were always thought to be impossible, a poetic way of saying it couldn’t be done.”

The Magister sat down and folded his hands in his lap with a benign smile.

“Much that was once thought impossible has since been accomplished, my dear Quintus, and the Elder One has had centuries to meditate upon these mysteries. Understand this; there are many worlds besides our own, similar in some ways and dissimilar in others. He has seen this, and He has seen that in this place all the conditions are met. Once we have summoned and bound a Reaper, this false Herald and her allies will fall before Him like a rotten tree in the storm.”

Another member of the group spoke up, a tall man with a deep scar down the right side of his face; the chainmail beneath his robes glinted in the firelight.

“The Herald and her pet lordling were close behind us when the portal was opened. What if they came through as well?”

Magister Volentus chuckled quietly.

“Then, Lucius, our task has been made easier. Such power that she has is drawn from the Fade; here, she is just another elf, but…” He held up a cautionary finger. “do not underestimate her on that basis alone, or the boy. They are cunning, determined, and dangerous. Alexius and Erimond paid the price for not realising that and I will not repeat their mistake.”

The Magister dismissed them with a wave of his hand, and he was soon alone in the cool silence of the cavern. He remained sitting, breathing slowly and deeply as his mind dissected the situation. Haste would be fatal; they might have survived the journey across worlds and have a secure hiding-place in these deep caves, but there was still much about this world he needed to learn if success was to be ensured. The idea of that infuriating bitch and her arrogant plaything being here troubled him, it was a random factor and one that could spell disaster as easily as triumph. 

As his thoughts probed deeper, a smile began to form again. The Elder One had said there were those here who might serve as allies, or useful pawns, and blood-magic did not need the Fade to be effective. He had the first steps in his strategy, enough to set a plan in motion.


End file.
